The Making of Happiness
by patsypotter
Summary: When you achieve what you've always wanted for your life you need to find someone to share that victory with you.
1. Prologue - The Aftermath

**Author's Note: After re-reading the already posted chapters, I felt that I should rewrite some parts and correct some punctuation mistakes. The plot didn't change, but there are some additions, especially in this prologue. I hope you enjoy, and don;t be shy to comment! :)**

_This is it. I did what I had to do. He is dead, and now it's forever._

_All my life - for as long as I know my magical self - was devoted to hunting down and killing Voldemort, and now I did it, I feel that I must reward myself for the first time in seven years. How to do this is simple and she is just standing a dozen of yards away. She's waiting for me, I know she is; she has been waiting for too long and this is how I know she loves me. _

_I plunge myself in her direction. The sight of her beautiful red hair, waving around her head and gracefully skimming over her shoulders as she runs towards me, cannot make me happier; the way that she smiles makes my head spin; how her eyes seem to shine more whenever I approach her or whenever I glance in her direction. 'She's the one', my head screams as I reach in on her and lean for a long, victorious kiss._

_'Oh, Harry,' she sighs as I break the kiss, 'Finally. We can be happy now.' The smile on her rose lips make my insides melt, make me accomplished._

_'I'll never let you go, ever again,' I whisper back at her, hugging her closer to me. I close my eyes so that her heat fills my soul, but as soon as I open my eyes I acknowledge the destruction around us. Hogwarts, my only home, was in ruins, but I couldn't let that sight depress me so I chuckle at her and say, 'Look at what have we done just to be together...'_

_She looks around with a sad smile, and says, 'Yeah... But don't worry, it will be fixed in a blink of an eye. Now, let's just enjoy. We can finally be together, and nothing can take us apart.' She caresses my face sweetly and claims my lips for a kiss._

_As we part the kiss, I can't but keep holding her in my arms. Her tiny body seemed to intertwine so perfectly with mine, and from this moment on I know that we're bound. Around us, I can hear people shouting and congratulating me, saying I'm their hero. I but don't really care about what other people think about me anymore: all I ever needed is right in my arms and - Merlin, forbid me - I can't even think of letting her go._

_I look down at her and, still drunk with the heat of the moment, say, 'I promise you that I'll do whatever it takes to make you the happiest woman to ever walk on Earth. I'll make each moment count; I'll go wherever you need me to go; I'll do everything I couldn't do all these years I've kept you waiting. One day, you'll be Mrs. Potter.'_

_She stares right into my eyes and grins. 'You are amazing, Harry, and I have no doubt that you will make me feel great as long as you're beside me. But I also want to give you what no one gave to you before; I want to cater to all your wishes; I want to make you feel loved, not for what your name stands for, but for who you really are. I love you, Harry, and I promise you I'll always be there.'_

_As we lean forward for yet another kiss, a shaded woman's figure appears right in front of us, her wand pointing towards us. The universe seems to have stopped and the only moving characters, in this game called life, are the three of us. She starts walking towards us, her wand at the height of her eyes, and the last thing I see is a jet of green light, shot at both me and Ginny._

'No!'

Harry woke up in a sweat. Her scent flooded his nostrils and a feeling of guilt flooded his mind. The dream was so vivid, almost as if he was living that moment all over again - at least part of it. It was the third time in a row that dream invaded his sleep. The dream was always the same: he was standing with Ginny, making promises, when a woman's figure came to kill them. Why would he be dreaming about that? In the past, he learned that dreams can be a message from our conscience, that they can convey metaphors to explain the present. He was now starting to understand what the message could be: not all was going according to his plans. How could he have promised that - no - how could they have promised that to each other if they didn't have any idea of what the future reserved for them?

Reluctantly he got up and walked out of his bedroom. The promises he made to her were too important and he was letting them go. He had to see her, he had to talk to her, even though he knew he was walking out on her.


	2. Changes

**A.N.: Updated.**

It was a cold autumn night, there was no living soul walking on the street, nor where there cars on the road; the rain was pounding heavily on the window and no sound could be heard inside the apartment except for the roaring rain. Inside, a man was looking at that natural chaos, his green eyes wouldn't move or squint, his face washed by a pensive expression.

Three years had passed since the victory over Voldemort, and what seemed so absolutely resolved back then was now starting to lose meaning. Harry Potter was famous, victorious; his face was all over the world, every child respected him and looked up to him. He was a hero, an overachieved young man indeed, but his heart was still far from achieving the happiness he longed.

He was dating Ginny ever since the glorious victory, and Ron and Hermione also seemed to be pretty happy since then. Even though all four of them were together since then, no one had yet taken the next steps towards the true couple life. Harry had moved in with Ron a year ago in to an apartment in central London, just a couple of minutes away from the Ministry of Magic where they worked as Aurors. Ginny still lived at the Burrow mainly because Mrs. Weasley was having a hard time getting past Fred's death and could not yet bare another child of hers leave home. As for Hermione, she practically lived at St. Mungo's hospital even though she had rented an apartment with some friends from work.

Overall, life seemed to be going just as he planned. There was only one thing that he would change: his heart. Even though Ginny was the girl he had once dreamed spending the rest of his life with, something changed deep within him. Something about her - no - something about him, was wrong. Every time they were together, he'd feel as if something was missing, as if the fire had extinguished. 'Nothing lasts forever, I guess,' he muttered.

Suddenly the door cracked open and a drenched Ron walked in. 'Bleeding Merlin! What a mayhem outside!' He took off his drench-coat and casted a Drying Charm on it. 'Did you make anything for dinner, Harry? I'm starving,' he walked towards Harry but he received no answer. 'Harry? You in there?'

'Oh, hi Ron… I'm sorry, what?' he said, snapping out of his thoughts.

'Did you make dinner? Rainy days kinda make me hungrier… What were you thinking about?' replied Ron, as he dived his hand on his pocket to grab something and, without letting Harry respond to his question, added: 'What do you think?' He opened a small box. Inside was a beautiful ruby and diamond ring.

'Whoa, I know we're really good friends, Ron, but I'm not yet gay,' he chuckled nervously. He knew what that meant.

'Harry, you're too funny! I'm proposing to Hermione, not you, snitch-head,' he laughed. Harry's heart stopped for a split second. His life flashed in front o his eyes as if the fact of Ron and Hermione getting married would mean his death. 'I'm doing it tomorrow at the party at Hog's Head. What do you think she'll say?'

Harry looked down at the ring expressionlessly. That could mean that, in a matter of a year or less, he'd be the only one who was still single since his feelings for Ginny were no longer the same. He would be alone. 'I dunno, but she's probably gonna freak out,' he uttered finally.

'Freak out? As in shriek of emotion and faint on my arms?' inquired Ron. 'Anyway, I just hope she says yes.'

'Yeah, I hope so,' replied Harry smiling awkwardly. Why was he feeling so sad with such an exhilarating announcement? Was it just for the fact that he was the only one that could't still think of such a commitment? Or could it be more than that: a feeling, a fear, or probably a mix of both? He shook his head hoping that thought would leave him. 'Anyway, let's have dinner?'

Ron put the ring away and stormed towards the kitchen. 'I thought you'd never say that!'

Sunlight washed Harry's face what seemed to be too soon that morning. He wasn't able to sleep all night; he dreamed about Ginny, only to wake up feeling agonised, and also dreamed about Ron and Hermione. That last dream was like a nightmare. For some reason he could't bear the thought of his two best friends getting married. He reached lazily to his glasses and put them on. It was 9 a.m and he could already hear noise from the living room.

He got up, grabbed his robe and dragged his feet across the room and opened the door. In the living room, Ron was already dressed and was walking around impatiently murmuring words as he fumbled his pockets, probably to guarantee he had all he needed. "Oh, you're finally up, mate! Get dressed, we need to go!" said Ron as he acknowledged Harry's presence.

'What, now? The party won't start 'till eleven… What's the hurry?' he was barely awake let alone have the physical and mental strength to even have bath.

Ron looked at Harry incredulously. 'Of course, now! We never know what may happen… There can be a setback or something!' Harry could see how nervous Ron was. This was the big day for him.

'But we're Apparating there, aren't we? So why hurry?' said Harry rubbing his eyes. 'Do you know if Ginny's going?'

'Don't be such a lazy ass,' Ron replied promptly. 'And you should know better if Ginny's going; you're the boyfriend,not me,' he added with a slight punch on Harry's arm that almost knocked him off.

Harry rubbed the area where Ron had punched him. 'Ouch, do not punch me when I'm still waking up, will you? And I haven't talked to Ginny since last Friday, I dunno what she's up to.'

'We'll figure out when we get to Hogsmeade. Now, c'mon!'

The party was going incredibly well. Everyone was cheering and dancing, after all it was the commemoration of the third anniversary over Voldemort's defeat. But all - and that included old Aberforth - except Harry seemed to be having fun. 'What's wrong, Harry?' asked a sweet woman's voice. Harry felt a shiver running down his spine, an unusual feeling for him. 'This party is all about you, why aren't you happy?' she inquired worryingly, sitting by his side.

'Oh, I don't know, Hermione…' he managed to say. 'I feel empty.'

'What are you talking about? You have conquered what you most desired and you found the perfect girl for you, what could make you feel that way? It isn't about your parents or Sirius, is it?' The worry in Hermione's voice was so comforting he wished that he could just hold her.

'No, it's not about them,' he paused thinking if he should confess his feelings to her, after all she too was Ginny's friend. He let out a loud sigh and said: 'it's about Ginny.'

Hermione looked astonished. 'G- Ginny? Why? What's wrong?'

'I guess that everything has its time, and that also applies to love. I don't think I love her anymore,' he said as he looked to Hermione. He had never noticed how beautiful his friend was, how gracefully her hair touched her shoulders and how physically attractive she was. He shook his head, still in disbelief of what he had just thought. _'She's taken, brain, stop it'_.

'Oh my, I thought you were just fine. Did you tell her already?' she replied putting her hand over Harry's shoulder and gently caressing it.

'No, I was waiting for her to come. But I guess she's on the same page about me… We haven't talked since last Friday,' he said, a hint of sadness running across his expression.

Hermione hugged him with all her strength. He felt her warm body press against his, a motherly warmth but at the same time he could also feel that an overpowered feeling was taking control. _'No, I can't,'_ he thought, but maybe it was too late.

The music stopped suddenly and Hermione broke the hug, mouthing _'It's gonna be fine' _and they both turned to the front. A overly excited Ron (maybe because of the beer he had been drinking) got on a chair and exclaimed: 'Everyone, I have an announcement to make!' he paused and looked at Hermione. 'Hermione, can you come here?' he asked with a huge grin on his face. Hermione got up, with a puzzled look on her face, and walked towards her boyfriend. As she approached him, Ron got down on his knee and held up the small box that he had shown Harry the night before and asked her: 'Will you marry me, Hermione Granger?'

She covered her mouth with her hand and froze for a couple of minutes. 'I- I…' she stuttered, her face turning to a bright shade of red.

'Hmm, I have all the time but my arm is starting to give in, babe,' said Ron nervously.

'I'm sorry', she uttered as she turned away and ran out of the bar.

Harry blinked twice just to be sure that that wasn't a dream. Hermione had just refused Ron's proposal without an explanation. He looked around and gazed at each and everyone that was at the party: was it just him, or had that just happened? Everyone looked as dumbfounded as he was and Ron was standing there, on his knees, completely apathetic.

Everything was changing, in what way he was unsure, but nothing would be the same after that afternoon.


	3. Explanations

**A.N.: Updated**

All happened quickly, he hadn't even been able to move away from where he was seated. He glanced at the distraught Ron several times before even thinking about standing up to comfort him. As he finally gathered the strength to get up, he walked towards his friend and patted him in the back, in a sign of reassurance. Ron looked up to him, teary eyed, but Harry wasn't even able to utter a single word.

His whole world had stopped when Hermione stormed out of the bar, he was left speechless. In a way, he was happy and, at the same time, repudiated that he could think of that moment like that. Both Ron and Hermione were his best friends and he had just watched them fall, unable to stop it from happening.

'Why, Harry, why?' Ron asked, his face was bright red, a mixture of anger and sadness.

Harry looked down, trying to come up with a good answer, but instead he just whispered: 'I don't know, Ron. I'm sorry.' He shifted his head away so that Ron couldn't see his expression. For a long time now, he had been fantasising about Hermione. Whenever he saw her, he couldn't but think how amazingly beautiful she had become. She was no longer the skinny girl he had met back in his first year in Hogwarts; she became a woman, a full grown woman. Sometimes, when Hermione used to spend the night at his and Ron's apartment, he used to stare longly at her without her even noticing. He would watch her every movement; from the way that she flipped the pages of books, the way that she scribbled notes, the way that she would hold up her hair, and he would even watch her fall asleep on the sofa and would wish that he could just lay next to her.

Suddenly, the bar's door swung open and a light breeze flew in, awaking the yet dumbfounded crowd and snapping Harry out of his dream. At the threshold stood a beautiful woman's figure. Harry's heart skipped a beat; it was Ginny. "I'm sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed but no-one answered her. 'Um... Why's everyone so quiet?'

'Ginny,' Harry started, 'bad timing.'

She approached him with a inquisitive look on her face, lifting herself up to kiss him. Only after she acknowledged the presence of her older brother. 'What happened, Ron?' she asked worriedly.

Harry didn't let Ron answer and, instead, he signalled Ginny to wait and lifted Ron up. "Get yourself together, go after her," he whispered. 'Let's talk,' he told Ginny, harshly.

Harry lead Ginny out of the bar into Hogsmeade's streets. 'Wait!' she exclaimed, 'what's wrong?'

He stopped and turned towards Ginny. Her eyes pierced his face and he felt weakness taking over his body. Even though he didn't feel the same way that he felt three years ago, she could still make his head melt with her charm. 'Hermione... She refused Ron's proposal,' he finally uttered.

'What? Proposal? He proposed to her?' she said astonished. 'And she said no?' Ginny fell into a deep, pensive silence.

'Well, actually she said "I'm sorry" and left, but I guess that's pretty much a no,' he said. Just like Ginny had done, Harry also fell into a deep silence. This had to be done, he couldn't postpone it: he had to tell her about his feelings. 'Ginny, I...' he stuttered, guilt painted all over his face. In his head, all he could wish for was that he would never have to do this, that he could just go back in time and never having made the promises he did.

'I have something to tell you,' she cut him off, as if she had read his mind. 'I hope you don't get mad, but I...'

Harry signalled her to stop once again. 'Ginny, I guess that what I have to tell you is much more important.' She froze, her eyes were wide open and a fearing look over took her expression. 'I think I fell out of love,' he said quickly and almost incomprehensibly.

'Wow,' she said blankly. 'What a day, uh...' Her eyes were fixed on him, as a frown started to form on her face.

'I'm sorry... You know, everything has it's end, and I just couldn't keep promising you what I couldn't do. I don't know how it happened, it was as if I woke up feeling differently...' He looked down to her, in hope to see her agreeing with him, to see her finding what he said logical.

She looked at him with disdain, instead. 'Whatever. I'm going to get a beer', she said as she started to walk away.

'Ginny - Wait!' he took gigantic steps to reach her by the arm. 'I still want to be your friend.'

'Friends, uh? I'll be your friend... But not today. Now, let me go.'

Harry just stood there, watching Ginny walk away. It had been harsher than he thought it would be. In the past three years, Ginny proved to have grown a lot and he could have never fathomed that she would take the break-up so badly. Yet, he did what he had to do, and he felt good about it.

She was crying like she had never cried before. Why did he have to do that? Her whole world collapsed when he asked her that fatal question; she couldn't do it for one simple reason: she didn't love him anymore, she had been fantasising about another man for months now and she was going to tell him. When he opened that small box, her heart sank, she was unable to even give a throughout answer, her intelligence and wit abandoned her that precise moment.

In the last couple of months, she dreamed about a very close friend. A friend that she recently figured out that he was the one her heart was devoted to all along. Quite similarly to Ron, he had also grown to be a handsome man, but there was more than just looks: Harry Potter had saved her; Harry had given her a reason to be happy. She knew that, whenever she would go to his place, he would watch her; and she liked it. Sometimes, she would drop her quill on purpose just to see his reaction when she curled down to get it back. She knew she was a teaser, but she also knew that he liked to be teased even if he didn't know that she was doing it on purpose. But even if she wanted to tell him how attracted she was to him, she couldn't. Maybe because she was afraid that he would turn her down, after all she was still Ron's girlfriend and he was still Ginny's boyfriend.

Hermione stood up, resolute to go home, sleep and forget about what just happened. But something stopped her. Out in the distance she could hear Ron screaming her name. 'Oh damn, will this man ever accept a no for an answer?' she said to herself, angrily. Reluctant, she walked out of the alley she was hiding in and promptly found him with a desperate look upon his face.

He ran to her as soon as he fixed his sight on her. 'Hermione...' he panted, as he tried to regain his breath. 'Why did you run away?'

She looked at him sadly. There were no words in the English dictionary that could explain what she needed to tell him, at least not throughly as she always wanted to do. 'Oh Ron... I don't even know what to say...'

'Just say the truth! I beg you. How could you do that? To _me_!' he emphasised. His eyes were red and swollen; she made him cry, she made the man that had always made her smile cry. 'I forgive you, for whatever reason you did that, but just tell me the truth...'

'I can't do it anymore,' she breathed as a tear rolled out of her eye. She loved Ron, but she didn't love him enough to marry him; she loved him as a friend and - swear to Merlin - she would break as many rules it took just to make him happy. But now she also had to break his heart, and by doing so she was also breaking her own.

Ron stood there, appalled. She lifted her head to look at him: his arms had fallen at the length of his body, his face had turned to a pale yellow, his mouth semi-open. 'So... we're done?' he asked blankly.

Hermione wiped off the tears and lifted her head up, trying to act confident about what she was just about to say. 'Yes... It's over,' she said in a determined tone, even though inside she was falling apart. 'Ron, I beg you... Don't try to reach me for the next few days, or weeks... Just don't make me feel worse than I do now.'

As fast as he had popped the ring out of his pocket, she Disapparated.


	4. Confessions

**A.N.: Updated.**

Three days passed since that catastrophic day and Harry was still taking everything in. Ron hadn't been home since that day, nor had he been to work; the only news Harry had gotten from Ron was that he had taken the week off and went to the Burrow. In a way, he felt guilty for what happened. Maybe if he hadn't wished so hard not to be left alone by his friends it hadn't come true. Every once in a while, Hermione would pop up across his mind, and he would daydream until something would wake him up: he would think about her skin and how soft it looked; how perfectly her hair sat on her shoulders; how sexy she looked when she bit her lower lip whenever she was working. Harry shook his head and rubbed his eyes. _'Not now'_, he told himself, reproachfully, as he scrambled through his desk in hope he could find something that could take his mind of off that.

Monday never looked so long to him. He enjoyed what he did, after all it was what he always wanted to do for a living, and 8 hours of office work seemed to fly by as quick as a dragon flaps its wings. That monday was the worst ever. Whenever he looked at the watch over his desk, it would seem that time had stopped and all he could think of was how could he make an excuse to visit St. Mungo's hospital. All he wanted was to explain to her how he felt for her, how painful the last few months had been; if only he had the courage to do it. Like what he did with Ginny, he had to do it with Hermione and that could take a long time.

His thoughts were interrupted with someone knocking on his door. 'Mr. Potter,' said his secretary as she popped her head through the threshold of the door, 'there's someone here to see you.'

'Well, let them come in...' he said reluctantly, hoping that it wouldn't be someone to discuss business, as it was the least thing he wanted to do that day. The secretary opened the door to reveal the guest and it was Hermione. In his head he could almost swear that all colour had vanished from his face; she was standing in his office with a faint smile on her face.

'Hi,' she voiced, shyly.

'What are you doing here?' he inquired, still in awe with her unexpected visit.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise to her friend's response. 'Wow, that wasn't the answer I was hoping for,' she said jokingly. 'I need to talk to you.'

At the sound of those words his heart sank. He could only hope the worst. Probably Hermione had already noticed how longingly he looks at her, how he contemplates her, and she probably had made up with Ron by now. But, for a somewhat strange reason, he could't let that happen. Only a second passed, but in Harry's mind seasons had come and gone. 'Um… Sure, go ahead,' he managed to say.

'This isn't going to be easy, but here it goes…' She took a deep breath, let the air sink in her lungs and looked at Harry with a shameful face. 'I broke up with Ron.'

Harry stood there flabbergasted, his heart racing. Those last days had been the confession days and they had been extremely exhausting. Even though those days were tearing him down, that announcement was the best he had heard in the last month. But then again, he was resolute that he wouldn't tell Hermione his feelings until he was prepared. 'What? Why?' he managed to say.

'Oh, Harry… I don't know. When you told me that you didn't feel the same way for Ginny that day, I broke down.' She sat down on the chair in front of Harry's desk, her cheeks turning into a rosy red. 'It's been two months now… I've been thinking about someone else.' As she said that, her face seemed to have become redder than blood and hotter than flames.

'I know the feeling…' he murmured.

'You, too?' she asked. Her expression went from guilty to a sweet astonished look, which made Harry's heart melt.

'Yeah…'

The pressure in his heart had barely faded with that confession, but he knew that he had so unveil much more in order to be totally at ease. But even though he had just confessed that, he couldn't help but think about whom she had been thinking of. It could be Krum, after all she had had a crush on him back in fourth year; or even Cormac McLaggen. Maybe he was the only one who could think of one of his best friends in that way.

'Do you think I should tell him? Or should I wait? Oh, Harry, I'm so confused!' She sighed loudly in despair.

'Hermione, you should know that I'm not the best person in the world to resolve love situations... But I think you should wait; he hasn't been home since that day.'

'I'm dying inside; I want to tell him, but I don't want to hurt him... After all, the person I've been thinking of is quite close to him...' Harry froze. "Quite close" to Ron? Who could that be? It could be one of his older siblings, a friend from work, or even Harry himself. But to know that he would have to ask her, which was still a fearful question.

'Hey, don't worry so much... For what I know of Ron, he'll be fine.'

'Oh, but I know he will not take it lightly, Harry... This is serious; all I could tell him that day was that I didn't want to keep living in lies. I really like him, he's my best friend and he has done the most amazing things for me... Telling him what goes in my heart feels like I'm stabbing myself, too.' She rose from the chair and hugged Harry, firmly.

'Seems like we're on the same page...' he whispered. 'Ginny hates me; I'm fantasising about someone I know I'll never have; my best friend won't come back home. I feel alone...' He sighed and, as they parted from the hug, he swore that their noses almost touched, and immediately lowered his head so that she wouldn't spot the redness on his cheeks.

'Well, you still have me! If you ever need to talk, stop by my place. I can try to make it better,' she said smiling sweetly. Those last words made Harry happy, in a way. Maybe, in a couple of months, he could be able to confess his feelings for her; it would never be as when the two of them were together hunting down Horcruxes, but that could be it.

'Thank you,' he said softly. 'You can do the same.'

She reached to kiss him in the cheek and left his office with a smile.

'Stupid!' she muttered as she walked down the hall of the Ministry of Magic. There was a reason she had gone there and she wasted it. Instead of telling him about her feelings, she just stood there and talked about how much she felt sorry for Ron. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

She liked to be thorough about almost everything, but for some reason she just couldn't do it with Harry. Whenever she would think of him, words seemed to be easy to speak, but when she actually faced him, all the words she could think of would seem gibberish. This wasn't the true Hermione: the true Hermione would have a logical approach to whatever the matter was, but this time it was different. She felt different, as if she was doing something illegal, as if she was falling in love with him.

Hermione shook her head. _'No, that's impossible,'_ she thought. He was her best friend, a brother, she couldn't feel that way about him... Or could she?

There was something that only Harry could give her and it was the pleasure of his company, his arms around her body, his hand on hers, his breath on her skin, his lips savouring hers, his hands discovering all her curves. It could be only lust, she thought as a shiver ran down her spine. The image of her and Harry was something that would cross her mind several times a day, and every day it would get more and more explicit, more and more passionate and, damn, she was starting to lose it.

As she walked away from the entrance to the Ministry, all she could think about was how stupid she had been for not telling Harry what she felt, how the only thing that occurred to her was telling him that they should spend more time together. Something was different; Hermione was no longer the resolute girl she used to be, there was something making her doubt every thought, something she never felt before. Back when they were at Hogwarts, she would sometimes fantasise about how it would be if she, Harry and Ron weren't best friends. It was a weird thought, nonetheless she could imagine being with both of them. They were, after all, two incredibly handsome wizards. In their sixth year, what made her suffer most was the fact that both of them were happy without her: Harry and Ginny were finally getting it off and Ron and Levander seemed to be pretty "happy".

Suddenly, a loud 'pop' knocked Hermione's train of thought astray. She looked to her side to find that Ron had just Apparated right next to her. 'What - Ron, are you crazy? You could have been seen!'

'I just couldn't resist...' he said, a small smile painted across his face.

Hermione sighed; that was what she needed least. Ron's presence would only make things harder, making her feel a sinner. 'I told you not to look for me. Seriously, Ronald, is it that hard?'

'Well, yes...' he replied shamefully, as he lowered his head. 'I needed to see you, I needed to talk to you.'

'Ok, ok... Let's head somewhere else, then.' She grabbed him by his arm, and dragged him to the nearest coffee shop. 'A cappuccino, please' she said as they sat down and the waitress approached them. 'Go ahead' she prompted him coldly.

'I've been thinking... And I guess you were right.' Hermione's hard expression shifted to a softer look of amazement and inquisition. 'We weren't ok. The bickering was starting to get on my nerves, too. Whoever said that opposites are attracted, lied. I really love you, Hermione, and I really thought that proposing to you could make it all better... I guess it was just a waste of time.' He smiled lightly, looking relieved.

Hermione smiled back and said, 'Oh, Ron... I'm so glad you agree with all this. But I -' she hesitated, 'I have something else to tell you...'

'Sure,' he said, as a calm smile took over his lips.

'I don't even know how to put it... I feel guilty, a sinner.' She cupped her face with her hands, hiding the tears that started to form on her eyes. 'I've been thinking of someone else, who's really close to you. That's just one of the reasons I broke up with you and, please, don't make me say anything else.'

The smile vanished from Ron's face. 'Who?' he asked, regardless of what she requested him not to do.

'Please, don't make this harder for me...'

She grabbed her purse, got up and sped off the coffee shop, leaving an appalled Ron behind.

Harry was exhausted. He had the opportunity of a lifetime right in front of him that afternoon. But courage failed him once again; even though Hermione had been there, he just couldn't tell her. Of one thing he was sure: he couldn't take as much time as he did with Ginny. Hermione was a beautiful woman, pleasing to the eye of any everyday regular Joe, and he had to act quick if what he really wanted was to be with her. Even if he would be with her just to make sure that all those feelings were nothing but lust, he needed to be with her, feel her and Merlin knows what else.

As he was heading over to the window, where he used to sit in front of whenever he had to think, a familiar voice popped just behind him. 'Hey mate.' Harry turned back and saw Ron standing next to the kitchen door.

'You're back! I thought you would never come back... Is everything ok?' Harry asked, as he greeted Ron with a hug.

Ron smiled and said, 'Yeah, everything's fine. You?'

Harry hesitated. He still hadn't been able to tell Ron that Ginny and him broke up. 'Good, I guess...'

'You broke up with Ginny, I know...' Harry's head jolted upwards, his eyes open wide in disbelief. 'She told me, if that's what you're thinking. She's not really happy, either, but she'll get over it.' Silence fell between them until Ron added, 'I also got things straight with Hermione today...'

'Did you guys make up?' was all Harry could think of saying.

'No,' he said immediately, 'We're through... I knew it would happen some day.'

Harry's heart seemed to be racing out of his chest, color drained from his face. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

Ron chuckled and responded, 'Don't be. She's amazing, Harry, you should know that. Being with her made me the man I am today, I regret nothing.'

'I know...'

'Also, I think she's crushing over you,' Ron added promptly. The smile on his face hadn't yet faded, as if Ron was happy that it happened.

Harry, on the other hand, stood flabbergasted in front of his best friend, unsure of what to say or even think. He felt as if he had stolen something from his best friend, thing which he never dreamed of doing. But Ron didn't seem preoccupied with that.

'You better go for it, mate. You have my full support,' Ron said, tapping Harry's shoulder. 'Friends will be friends, right?' he finalised, a grin taking over his face.


	5. Winter

"Are you ready, Harry?" Hermione stood at the front door with her trademark bossy expression across her face, as she tapped her foot nervously on the ground. "If you don't hurry, we're never getting there on time."

"Coming, coming!" he answered as he grabbed his things from around the house. It was Christmas Eve, and for the first time in three years he was going back to Godric's Hallow with Hermione. Even though it was three years ago, he could still feel the great comfort he felt when they visited it together, how fulfilled he felt with her by his side. Crazily enough, he still hadn't gotten the courage to confess his feelings for Hermione. They were spending much more time together, and sometimes Ron would come along and they would reminiscence about their golden years. In a way, they got back to be the trio they had been years before, the only difference was that they were all grown up. Ron and Hermione were finally back to their normal selves: whatever Ron said could be used against him, and Hermione would constantly brag about how his intelligence hadn't improved. As normally, Harry would just stand between the two of them whenever things started to get a little too rowdy and laugh at the things they would say to each other.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry! You're worse that a woman!" she said angrily, as she grabbed him by his arm. "Now, let's go. You won't be needing much over there."

With a loud pop sound they Apparated right in the heart of Godric's Hallow. All was the same: the snow was sitting on top of the houses and all over the ground; Christmas carols could be heard everywhere; the houses gave the small town an unusual warmth. He liked it there, especially because it resembled so much to Hogwarts: it was a town that seemed that would never get old, even though it was full of history. That place would always be the place where Harry lost his parents, but now he saw it as the place that would always keep them alive.

They walked side by side towards the graveyard. Just on the other side of the road stood the house where he was born, where he lived his first year of life, where Voldemort killed his parents and tried to kill him too. That place was where his historic journey begun and, for some time now, he wondered what would it be like to go back, only this time was to begin a new story. Since his victory over Voldemort, he knew that he inherited his parents' house, but he had never thought about going to live there, not yet at least. He was still waiting for the right time - and for the right person - to do that.

Hermione cleared her throat in the attempt to claim his attention. "Harry... Wake up, we don't have that much time."

"What if I rebuilt it?" he asked vaguely, not paying attention to what Hermione said.

"Your parents' house? Why would you do that? You already have your apartment," she responded with a hint of confusion across her face.

"Well, yes, but I have no intentions on living alone all my life... Besides, this is an awesome place to live, don't you reckon?" Harry's eyes surveilled the house right before them. It was the place where he was born, the place that kept the memories of his parents alive every since he found out about the truth.

"I think you've gone mad," she said with a light chuckle. "Why would you remember that so suddenly? You know that this house is yours since you defeated Voldemort three years ago and, as far as I know, you didn't really want it then." Hermione spun on her heels, turning herself towards the graveyard. "Let's go?"

Harry followed her steps reluctantly. He could picture how life would be there. Godric's Hallow was a wizard village, he wouldn't have to worry about his children flying around in broomsticks or having them turning paper strips into flowers; he would teach them Quidditch and tell them all about Hogwarts; and he would give them all he never had, all his parents couldn't give him. But even if knew exactly what he would be doing in Merlin knows how many years, with his - for now - imaginary children, he still hadn't decided who would be their mother. Maybe that person was just there with him, maybe it was Hermione. Ever since Ron told him that he thought she had a crush on him three months ago, Harry's life took a hundred and eighty degree turn. All he could think of now was how he could tell her that he shared the same feelings.

Harry's mind shut down immediately when they reached his parents' grave. They were there for nineteen years, but only three years ago were they able to finally rest in peace. Their son was safe, he had avenged their deaths. Harry couldn't hold back a single tear from rolling down his cheek as he read, for what seemed the millionth time, his parents' names.

As he stood there, Hermione reached for the flowerbed he left there the previous year, and promptly reached for her wand to make a new one. "Don't cry, Harry," she said as she clung to his arm. "They're alright now... I guess that now they just want you to be happy."

"Yeah, I think so..." he whispered, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Well," he said, clearing his throat, "we have to go, don't we?"

"Yes, we should be going... my parents are waiting," she said as she let go of his arm and started walking out of the graveyard.

Harry watched her go with a questioning look on his face. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Aren't we Apparating there?"

Hermione froze and looked back at him above her shoulder. "Oh, you're right," she said, looking sort of confused. "We'll have to Apparate nearby though... The neighbors may see us." She reached on to Harry's hand and held it firmly, and Disapparated.

Godric's Hollow had barely disappeared from his sight when a place he had never been to appeared around him. He found it a very pleasing neighborhood, that somewhat reminded him of the neighborhood where his mother lived before she went to Hogwarts, according to Snape's memories. The houses were decorated accordingly to the season; Santa Clauses wrapped around Christmas lights, mistletoes hanging in every door, and fake snowmen laying on every front lawn.

Hermione finally let go of his hand and turned to him with a concerned look on her face. "Please, Harry, don't forget not to mention the war or whatever happened during our supposed seventh year. Remember I put a Memory Charm on my parents before I left, and I had to make a story up after I went to get them."

Harry sighed loudly. "For the hundredth time, Hermione, I know. Our seventh year was totally uneventful, you aced your exams and I did great on my N.E.W.T's," Harry said as she nodded affirmatively to his words. Even though Hermione told them what she did back when they were hunting for Horcruxes, she had to go over the story once again, just to guarantee that he wouldn't let anything slip.

"Exactly," she said, a smile replacing the frown on her face, and turned towards the lane and guided Harry through the neighborhood.

Some meters ahead stood the most modestly decorated house of that street: like all of the houses there it had mistletoe hanging on the door, and besides that only a string of Christmas lights around a medium sized bush, and a Santa was hanging from one of the windows. Inside he could see Mr. and Mrs. Granger preparing the table for dinner.

Hermione hurried to the front door and rang the bell. Moments later, Mrs. Granger opened the door. "Hello, sweetie," she said as she held Hermione with a tight hug. "And hello, Harry. Finally we get to meet you decently."

Mrs. Granger was a beautiful woman; she looked like time didn't go through her... Hermione definitely got the good genes, Harry wondered. "Hello," he said shyly, bowing his head and walking inside as she gestured him to. The house looked inviting from the outside, but inside it was cozier than any house he had ever been to; the crackling sound from the fireplace made Harry feel home, as if it was Gryffindor's Common Room back at Hogwarts; from the kitchen, the smell of just cooked turkey filled his nostrils, and made his stomach growl.

"I'm going to change," Hermione said as she started to climb the stairs. "You can start eating if you want to," she added, looking at Harry with a chuckle.

Harry walked through the door and into the living room where Mr. Granger was standing, waiting for him with his hand stretched in his direction. "Ah, Harry, how nice it is to have you in our home," he said with cheerfully, as Harry shook his hand with a timid smile on his face.

"It's a pleasure for me too," said Harry as shyly as his smile, "especially to finally meet you as we were supposed to have met before."

He had never spent Christmas with any other family other than the Weasleys or the Dursleys, and it was rather strange to there with a family he barely knew, except for Hermione. And that was probably the main reason why he was feeling so shy about the whole situation. He now knew that his feelings for Hermione had changed; she was no longer the bushy haired best friend, she was the most elegant witch he had ever seen; she was no longer the eleven year old girl looking for a toad; she was a woman, in the word's fullest meaning; she was the woman that wouldn't leave his mind for a minute. He was falling in love, - again, to his misfortune, - and this time it was with his best friend.

"Please, Harry, make yourself at home," said Mr. Granger as he pointed to a chair next to him.

Harry obliged rather unconfidently, feeling that he was somehow being watched. Despite the fact that Hermione's parents didn't remember exactly the day they first met in Diagon Alley, eight years ago, they acted as if they knew exactly who he was and what he did for the wizarding world. Or maybe Ron's hunch was right and Hermione really had a crush on Harry, which made him feel even more uncomfortable.

"So tell me, son, what do you do for a living? I think Hermione already told me, but I forget..."

"Oh, I'm the Head Auror at the Ministry for Magic," he replied promptly, trying not to vocalize the chuckles at the 'I forget' note Mr. Granger added to his question.

"Impressive..." he replied with a bewildered look on his face, "and what exactly is that?" Mr. Granger finished. He seemed to be the exact opposite of Mr. Weasley, who always wanted to know more about Muggle items. Or maybe it was just Harry's imagination.

"It's like the chief of the magical police," Harry explained briefly.

Mr. Granger's face lit up with understanding, as if he realized that he knew exactly what it meant now Harry had explained. "I know now!" he exclaimed, making Harry's assumption true. "Hermione explained that to me very recently... You must have done great in your final examinations at Hogwarts, then," he continued as a grin started to grow on his face.

Harry almost choked on his own saliva; He never went back to Hogwarts to take his N.E. , the position was offered to him shortly after the end of the war. "Um, yes, excellent indeed," he replied with a terribly notorious fake smile on his face.

"Dad, please don't make Harry feel uncomfortable. He's had too many questioning before," Hermione said from the living room's door.

Harry's jaw nearly dropped to the ground at the sight of his friend. He surveyed her from head to toe; she looked astonishing. In a matter of minutes, Hermione managed to look even better than she looked at the Yule Ball, which that time took her hours. She was wearing a long, red dress with golden linings making her silhouette more defined, which made a shiver run down his spine as he imagined her in a way he wouldn't even allows himself to do. Her hair looked soft, caught up in a messy but yet beautiful bun, and some locks of hair hung neatly over her shoulders. "You look gorgeous..." he managed to say, after what seemed to him a thousand years.

"Thanks," replied Hermione, blushing slightly. She then turned to her mother, who was still in the kitchen. "Is dinner ready, Mum?"

"Yes, dear. Will you help me carry this, please?" Mrs. Granger asked. Hermione withdrew her wand immediately from her famous bottomless bag, and hurried over to help her, levitating the turkey to the table.

Dinner was uneventful, except, perhaps, the fact that they discussed matters that Harry never imagined he could have an opinion about it. It was nice to talk about Muggle affairs every once in a while, but for Harry it had been a forbidden subject when he lived at the Dursleys. The conversation shifted from the dinner table to the living room chairs; Mrs. Granger prepared hot chocolate for everyone and joined the rest, moments after, by the fireplace.

Every once in a while, Harry would look at Hermione from the corner of his eye. The dancing fire reflected on her face, making her more beautiful than she already was; her skin looked angelically soft, and he was repressing the urge to caress it, to touch her in ways he never fathomed of touching. That night could be the night he would put all the shyness and awkwardness behind his back, and finally tell her what he felt, how he felt for her. She looked more than amazing that night, and Harry couldn't hold back his feelings anymore; he had to tell her, he needed to be with her, he wanted to claim her lips in a soft kiss.

The conversation flowed nicely for the rest of the evening, except for the moments when he stuttered every time Hermione caught his eye. Soon after midnight, and after all jokes were told and all matters discussed, Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood up with tired looks on their faces. "We're off to bed," announced Mrs. Granger as she leaned over to Hermione, and kissed her forehead. She then turned to Harry, with a kind smile, "It was a great pleasure to share this day with you, I hope you find time to do this more often." Harry smiled cordially back at her, but couldn't make out the meaning of what she had just said.

Harry and Hermione waved them goodnight, and suddenly fell silent. Hermione had her eyes fixed upon the crackling flames, and a nostalgic smile crossed all over her face. "It feels as if we're back at Hogwarts, doesn't it?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he breathed. Taking another glance at her, he could tell that her eyes were filled with emotion. The thoughts of how beautiful she looked took over his mind once again, how the fire seemed to bring up all the features he appreciated in her. Suddenly, she scooted nearer to him, and laid her head on his shoulder. Another shiver shot down his spine, this time for the closeness of their bodies. His nostrils were filled with her scent.

"I missed spending time with you..." she whispered against his shoulder. "I missed telling you off, getting mad at you for all the stupid things you do... You haven't changed a bit, but yet you're the best wizard I know." Harry blushed instantly, a warmth building on his chest, a kind of warmth he never thought Hermione could give him.

"No, I'm not," he complained, "If it weren't for both you and Ron I would have never accomplished what I did, or how I did. Without you, I'd be lost... or worse - dead," he finished with a smile across his lips.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed as she swung her arms around his neck. Harry had to repress the urge to kiss her; they had never been that close, but he was liking it. He inhaled her smell, memorizing it, but still trying not to become controlled by his deepest desires.

Almost at the same time he tried to hold back that thought, he heard a familiar sound above his head. He looked up and saw a mistletoe forming magically above their heads, just like it happened back in their fifth year in the Room of Requirement. Hermione looked up as well, with a curious expression which rapidly became a devilish smile. "Um, is it bad luck not to -"

The sentence broke before he could finish it, as well as his thoughts came to an halt. Hermione had launched herself on to him in an uncanny kiss. His eyes were wide open in disbelief, but closed them gradually as he accepted the kiss. She was good at it, and she seemed to be putting every speck of emotion into it. But in Harry's mind he couldn't but think what it could mean. _"Oh, screw it..."_ he told himself. That was what he had been waiting for.


	6. Lightning-bolt

**A.N.: I'll be changing the rating to M just to be safe for this one. Nothing graphical, but I figured it would be better safe than sorry. Also, I might take a week from writing since I'm cluttered with school work atm, but I'll be sure to have the epilogue ready before Christmas. Keep tuned and don't forget to review :)**

'Oh, Harry...'

Her moan made his insides twitch uncontrollably; he hadn't needed words to explain how he felt, and neither had she, but they both knew what was happening. Hermione took his hand and lead him along side her curves, allowing him to discover and touch what he wanted most for several months. They weren't children any more, in fact, they never really had time to be children, and they both knew where that could possibly take them. As the kiss deepened, Harry's senses started to kick back in; it was going too fast. Although his eyes were closed, he could sense that Hermione had sat on his lap, her legs slightly parted, and her dress too many inches above were it should be.

Reluctantly, Harry grasped her hand in a sign that they should slow down. It wasn't as if he didn't want to continue, but, for as much as he hated it, he had to talk to her, he had to know if what she felt was exactly what he hoped she would feel. 'Hermione,' he moaned against her lips, 'We should-' He couldn't even finish a sentence; she was too enticing, but he really needed to know what was going through her mind. With a swift movement, Harry switched positions so that he would be on top of her. He held her chin, and gently pushed her head away. 'Now listen to me, young lady, stop or otherwise I'll have to rip that dress off you.'

'Not that I wouldn't mind...' she said teasingly, bitting her lower lip.

'But I do,' he replied, as he sat up straight.

Hermione's eyes widened in awe, and her expression shifted from witty to ashamed in a matter of seconds. He could almost read her mind in that moment, but she took the advantage and spoke first, 'I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have...'

'No, it's not that.' He twitched his mouth and licked his lips unwillingly, her flavour was already incrusted on his lips. 'It's just... What was this?'

'A kiss,' she responded confidently, but the expression soon vanished from her face, giving place to a somewhat scared look as she caught Harry's reproachful eye.

'It's not that... What happened with us?' he rephrased, a feeling of his brain being melting inside his head raising. He wanted to know how she felt, he wanted to be sure if she was doing it for the same reason he was. He was falling for her, and now he was even deeper in to her.

'I- I don't know...' she stammered, as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 'I meant to have told you before, but I couldn't... I needed to think about it throughly. This never happened to me.' As her voice trailed off, she hid her face behind her hands, and Harry knew that she was about to succumb in to tears.

'Please, don't cry...' he said softly, as he scooted to her side and put his arm around her shoulders.

She let her hands slide down her already wet face, her eyes were puffy from the silent tears she cried. 'Ginny is going to hate me for this...' she started in a whisper, 'I knew how much she cared for you, and now this... Oh, Harry, for months now it was you who constantly filled my mind, day and night.' Tears started to run down her cheeks, and Harry pulled her closer to him. 'You have always been there when I needed most; you were the one who, even though all I could think about then was Ron, didn't let me fall. I'm sorry - I'm sorry I didn't show you the appreciation you deserved back then...' she sobbed against his chest.

Harry was petrified with her sudden confession. He never thought she could ever feel that way about him. Never in the eight years they have known each other, could he fathom that someday they would be having that conversation. She was his best friend, his shoulder to cry on; he was lost in her words, even after he promised himself that he would tell her everything he had to tell her, he couldn't but help to feel speechless. 'It's okay,' was all he managed to say.

'I understand if you don't feel the same way... You can do much better than me,' she replied, now looking at him in the eye.

His heart skipped a she looked at him, in the last months, he felt his insides tingling, not in pain but with a sensation he never got before. Her brown eyes seemed to penetrate in to his mind, and he seemed to grow accustomed to that, in fact he liked it very much. But this time her eyes had a different spark, a light of despair, mixed with true emotions. 'Hermione, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you... You were always my rock, you were always by my side. If it weren't for you I'd be nothing. You told me off when I needed to be calmed down; you were the one who always really mattered -' he broke off at the sound of her insisting sobs. 'You made me the man I am today...

'I- I think I love you...' he concluded, looking away so she couldn't see how red he had become. If there was something he really hated about himself, it was how susceptible he was to feelings. It made him feel weak, defeated, but it was inevitable.

He felt her hand rubbing the top of his shoulder, which gently shifted to cup his cheek. 'Oh, Harry... that's exactly what I wanted to tell you. I love you, too, and I've loved you for a long time now,' she said softly, as she turned his face in order for him to look directly at her.

'R-Really?' he questioned, looking awkwardly at her. His stomach twitched for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening, as an image of him and Hermione crept into his mind - a wedding, it seemed - but he rapidly shook the image out of his mind.

'Yes... For a really long time, actually. I felt distraught when you and Cho hit it off, but back then I was more worried about how we were going to survive the year... I figured I should move on, forget that we could be together someday. But it was more difficult than I thought it would be.

'Then you and Ginny got together, and somehow I figured that one day one day I would meet the same Weasley "fate"... People made us take different paths, physically at least, but they couldn't take you off my mind. And thats why I love you, now more than ever.' She caress his face with a gentle smile on her lips, and leaned on to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Harry stood there dumbfounded, his mind racing. She loved him, she had been waiting for years; even after pushing her to the back of his mind, and even after she spent the last three years with Ron, she had always known that if everything happened, he would be the one she turned to. 'Hermione, I don't even know what to say,' he replied, at last.

'Well, don't say anything...' she said softly, and kissed him lightly on his lips.

This time Harry didn't think twice before letting himself get lost in the kiss. She was perfect, and now she was his. He didn't even care about where that would take them, he just wanted to be with her. In a swift motion, Harry pulled her back to his lap, now feeling much more at ease. As he deepened the kiss, his hands wandered through her body, trying to find a way beneath her clothes; her hands were moving fast, but yet rhythmically, across his hair and then beneath his robes. Her hand felt so soft against his skin, he could barely think straight.

'I think we should go to bed,' he hissed against her lips.

'Mhmm,' she muttered back at him, as she let a moan of pleasure slide out her throat.

The next day dawned way too soon in Harry's belief. He shifted slowly on the bed to get his glasses from the nightstand, but soon realised they weren't there. Suddenly he remembered of how drunk out of love he was last night; as memories snapped back in his mind, Harry remembered that Hermione had dropped his glasses on the bedroom floor, seconds before she threw him over the bed.

He managed to get up feebly, sticking his arms aloft trying not to smack against a wall. Unfortunately, he stepped in the stem of his glasses and let out a silent growl. With a slight movement of his wand (which was laying on top of the dressing table next to the door) he whispered the Repairing Charm at them, and finally managed to place the glasses on.

Suddenly, Hermione whimpered softly as she turned on the bed, trying to find Harry but instead clutched on to his pillow, which seemed to be good enough for her. Harry's lips formed a smile at her sight. And then it hit him: they had slept together; he had spent the night inhaling her scent, holding on to her; he had had the chance to get to know how much of a woman she had become; they had connected in a way that Harry never thought possible.

He tiptoed to her side and sat on the bed, leaning gently over her. He could tell that she was still naked beneath the sheets. 'Wake up,' he whispered softly against her ear. He found that he actually fancied the way she slept, how her slumber expression seemed to fill his heart with joy. He caressed her hair sweetly, but she feebly tried to move his hand away, finding how pointless it was, she resigned with a groan.

'Geroff... Five more minutes.'

'Oh, no missy!' he said grinning. 'You better get up, or I'll be forced to tickle you off that bed,' he menaced her jokingly. He knew how much she hated to be tickled, but it found it quite amusing and attractive at the same time to watch her body twitch at his touch.

'Don't you dare, Potter,' she spat back at him, opening her eyes and trying to find the strength to throw a pillow at him.

Harry laid beside her once more, as she reached to kiss her forehead and take her in his arms. He looked down at her naked body, and soon was engrossed by her curves, which made him feel uncomfortable somewhere below his navel. 'And what will you do if that happens?' he questioned as he leaned on her and kissed her neck softly.

'Oh, stop it...' she moaned, 'My parents must be already up... I reckon you wand to leave this house unharmed.'

Hermione got up and he watched her walk across her bedroom, fetching some clothes from the closet. Harry's mind drifted at the sight of her fit body, the body that he had made his just some hours before that. The way that her hips rocked side to side as she walked made him go insane, and the way that she seemed to dance above the floor as she picked up her garments made his stomach loop around. She looked above her shoulder gracefully, with a smirk on her face. 'What are you looking at?'

'You...' he responded promptly, smirking back at her.

'Don't make me do what I did to you last night!' she warned as she giggled at the sight of Harry's sudden change of expression. After slipping a shirt over her head, she walked up to him and gave him a peck on the lips. 'Now get dressed.'

They descended the stairs in turns so her parents wouldn't suspect what they had been doing last night (at least that's what Hermione thought, even though Harry riposted that they were old enough to do whatever they pleased with their bodies). When Harry walked in the living room, he noticed that presents were already stacked all around the Christmas tree. He quickly abandoned the thought that some would be for him, he really wasn't expecting much from the Weasleys.

'Good morning, Harry!' said Mr. Granger cheerly. 'There are some presents for you that arrived this morning... But lets have breakfast first.'

Harry sat down beside Hermione, and helped himself to some bacon and scrambled eggs, as Mrs. Granger poured pumpkin juice on his glass. After everyone was finished, Hermione was the first to get up from the table and quickly made her way to the Christmas tree, beside which she sat and rummaged through the presents. Harry beckoned her questioningly for a moment or two and she finally emerged, with a grin on her face.

'Aha!' She approached Harry with a parcel in her hands and held it out to him. 'Here you go,' she said, but before he could thank her she turned around to find her parents's presents.

He stared at the parcel for some moments, wondering what it could be. It was the size of a book, but he had made clear for Hermione that books weren't really his thing. As he unwrapped the present, he found that it really was an album, similar to the one Hagrid gave him when he was eleven only this one had two name's initials engraved on them. _'H.J.P, H.J.G,'_ he read to himself. He couldn't help but smile as he opened the album. Hermione had made a collection of their best photographs together which she carefully labeled with the years when they were taken.

'Do you like it?' she questioned him, as she passed through with her parents's presents on her hands.

'Do I? It's great, Hermione. Thanks.' She smiled at him above her shoulder, and Harry had to repress a huge will to kiss her.

As she made another trip to the tree, he followed her and sat around the presents with her, as if they were six again. Amidst the packages, he found Mrs. Weasley handwriting in one of the parcels. It was address to him and couldn't help but wonder why she had sent him a present. Attached to the wrapping was a letter; as he already knew what the parcel would contain (the usually knitted sweater Mrs. Weasley made for him every year), he skipped it and opened the letter, which read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you're having a good time at Hermione's parents's. Well, things have been quite hectic here at the Burrow, but nothing Mum can't handle. I was thinking about sending you a more adult and reliable book like the one I gave you when you turned seventeen, but then I remembered that you must know pretty much everything by now._

_Ginny is intending to write to you too; she's been sitting on her bedroom for days now, trying to come up with something formal enough to curse you out of her life. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore, for I hope that you and Hermione got everything straight by now... Your tension almost got to me the last time I was with the pair of you, and I hate you for that._

_Mum and Dad told me to say hi for them and they hope you'll visit them soon. George and Angelina were here last night and announced they're getting married. Mum's already acting as if the weeding is tomorrow, even though they made clear that they wouldn't get married before May._

_Well, I hope to hear from you soon. Merry Christmas._

_Ron_

Harry snickered at Ron's words; he found it amazing how he could always make him laugh. Looking again at the envelope he saw it contained one more letter.

_Harry,_

_I'm sorry to have acted the way I did. You have all the right to break up with me, but I guess I was too childish. Also, Ron told me about you and Hermione, but I don't really want to get mad at you, so I rather not talk about it._

_I hope you the best, and hope that you forgive me._

_Merry Christmas._

_Ginny_

A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders as he read Ginny's letter. She was no longer mad at him, and that only made him feel better about the choice he had made. Hermione looked over his shoulder and tried to get a peek at the letter. 'What did Ron tell her about us?', she asked confused.

Harry leaped on his spot, as her voice sounded. 'Oh, that... He kind of had an hunch that you fancied me,' he said in a whisper.

'Really?'

'Yeah, actually he was the one who told me not to give up on you...' he confessed in a small voice.

Hermione smiled and kissed him on the cheek. 'I have to thank him, then,' she replied as she threw one of her tempting looks at Harry.

'Stop smothering me with those looks, Hermione, or otherwise you'll be the reason your father kills me today.'

'I never knew you were so susceptible to this... We should go to the backyard,' she said teasingly as she got up and winked at him.

He followed her closely and grasped her hand as soon as her parents couldn't have a clear sight of them. Unable to restrain himself anymore, Harry pushed her against a tree and gave her a passionate kiss. 'See what you do to me?' he whispered between kisses. She made him go mad, and she should know it; it didn't matter what clothes she had on or whatever face she made, she was perfect for him. Despite the snow, he could even think about stripping down to nothing just to satisfy what he had repressed for so long. 'Why are you so irresistible?' he muttered again against her lips, as his hands rummaged through her body.

'Oh, Harry, you kill me...' she moaned, kissing him tenderly.

He broke the kiss and searched for something beneath his robes. It only took him some moments to find what he was looking for and handed out his Christmas gift to her. It was a small, rectangular, box which she opened on the spot. Her eyes widened as she saw the contents of the box: inside was a golden necklace with a small lightning-bolt hanging from it.

'I thought I should get you something that would remind you of me... Guess you thought the same way,' he said shyly.

'It's beautiful, Harry. I love it.'

'Not as beautiful as you...' He smiled at her lovingly as he cupped her cheek with his hand. 'But I want to ask you one more thing...' She nodded affirmatively and he continued, 'Will you be my exclusive?'

Hermione let out a squeal which she muffled with her hand. 'Yes!' she cried. For the most she wanted to keep secret what they had done the night before, she probably let the the whole neighbourhood know by then. She hurled herself to him, her arms stretched forward to hug him, and finally kissed him as passionately she could.

Now he was in her arms, he knew he could be happy. She was everything he ever wished for, she could give him what he most desired. They had a great life ahead of them, at that was just the start.


	7. Epilogue - Happiness

**A.N: Ok, I couldn't hold it back and decided it would be better if I wrote it down before all the good ideas escaped me. So here you go, the epilogue to The Making of Happiness. Enjoy and review!**

A small child zoomed up and down in a small broom, laughing and shrieking in joy, as the sun set behind the house. The broom didn't fly higher than a foot from the ground, but that seemed to feel like miles up ahead for the child. He looked at the child with a grin on his face, a warm feeling creeping inside his stomach although the chilly autumn breeze had already started to blow through his hair. 'Daddy!' the child cried, 'I wanna go down now!'

He walked towards the child, the satisfied look never leaving his face, and held the boy in his arms and softly caressed his head. The small boy had raven black hair and honey brown eyes, eyes which made his father think so fondly of his mother. He felt so complete now; he had made all he ever wished come true: even though he never got to rebuild his parents' house, he managed to buy a place in Godric's Hollow, and could now see his dreams happen right before his eyes. The family he always wanted, in the place where he always wanted to come back, with the woman he had always dreamed of.

The boy struggled in his arms for release, and turned sharply at his father, 'Let me go, Daddy! I can walk alone!' He had surely inherited his mother's temper, but he merely chuckled at the boy as he put him to the ground. As soon as he released the boy, he started to run around, trying to catch a gnome he had just spotted behind the bushes.

'James!' he called out, 'Gnomes bite, in case you didn't know and I'm sure your mother wouldn't like it if you got up to her crying with a gnome bite on your arm.'

James didn't mind his father's calling, he seemed to be of the adventurous sort, which his mother didn't really approve. The child continued to run around the garden in hope to finally find the misfit gnome.

'Harry,' called a woman's voice. He looked above his shoulder to find that his wife was standing at the backdoor. 'Dinner's almost ready... Where's James?' she said as she approached him. 'You didn't let him chase gnomes again, did you?'

He looked at her with a guilty look, and shrugged in a sign of being sorry. 'I couldn't even hold him,' he said simply, 'His kicks make my chest hurt whenever I try to hold him...'

'Oh honestly, Harry... Sometimes I think you're the one who's two years old,' she said, rolling her eyes. 'James!' she cried out, and the boy came to an halt some yards ahead. Harry loved to defy Hermione's rules when it came to their son like most fathers do, he reckoned. But the main reason he did it was just so he could have the pleasure of seeing her disapproving look, which he found extremely attractive in her.

The child approached his parents with a pout on his face, his hands behind his back. 'Sorry,' he said as he looked down to his tiny feet. Only when he looked up at his mother's face did he withdraw his hands from behind his back, and extended his little arm and hand to her, in which he was holding a white rose.

'Oh, James... Is it for me?' she said softly as she picked the rose from his hand. Harry was almost sure that his son half expected Hermione to turn to a deep shade of red, and yell at him for cutting the flowers off their beds, but as she didn't, the boy merely smiled up at his mother.

'Now, let's go inside... It's getting dark and dinner is almost ready,' Hermione said as she tucked the rose on her ear.

Hermione really had improved her cooking skills after they got married, having Mrs. Weasley as her mentor had helped, especially after they announced the wedding to her two years ago. But soon after they started eating, James chimed in, 'I already know what I want for Christmas...'

'You do? But that's three months from now, James,' Harry replied sweetly.

'Yes, but I wanna give you time to do my present...' the child replied promptly.

'And what is it that you want?' asked Hermione raising her eyebrows.

James put down his spoon and looked up at his parents. 'I wanna a baby brother.' Harry nearly chocked on the piece of steak he was chewing on; one thing he never imagined about parenthood was that sometimes it wasn't the adults who made the decision to have another child, but their children. Hermione patted him on the back, and James quickly intervened, 'What's wrong, Daddy? You don't want to give me a brother as a present?' he said as he started to pout, the international sign that warned them their son would soon break in to tears.

'It's not that, sweetie...' Hermione started, trying to comfort him. 'It's just... Babies can't be made with the flick of a wand.' Harry had to chuckle at that one, but stopped immediately when Hermione shot him a reproachful look. 'They take almost a year to be made,' she continued, pleased that her son reached the questioning age just as soon as she did. 'It's like waiting for bread to grow... But I'll try to explain this one to you later,' she finished as she reached through the table to caress his little head.

Later that night, when James was already tucked in his bed and fast asleep, Harry sat down with Hermione in the living room. He swung his arm around her as she cuddled next to him. He still couldn't believe how rapidly his life had changed, how just three years ago that night he was finding it impossible to bear his own thoughts. Now he had everything he had wished for: a home, the family and, most importantly, the woman who made it all possible by his side. He let out a sigh of contentment. and looked down at his wife. Those moments of peace were difficult to get ever since James was born, but he didn't mind, not as long as he would feel happy.

'Thank you,' he whispered softly in her ear.

'What for?' she beckoned him with a small smile on her face.

He smiled back at her and searched for the words he wanted to say, 'For everything, for this...' he finally said as he looked around. 'Thank you for giving me what I never had.'

'Oh, Harry... This is what I always wanted to give you: true happiness; and I'm glad I accomplished that,' she responded in a sweet voice, gazing longly at him.

Harry leaned on to kiss her softly. 'Do you reckon we should give James what he wants?'

Her expression shifted to a smug smile at the sound of his words. 'If that means I can release the animal inside me, the answer is probably yes,' she voiced as she bit her lower lip.

The only moments they could enjoy a pleasurable night was when James didn't remember to turn a tantrum on them, or when they sent him to Ron and Luna's during their anniversary. But given the circumstances, that night could be the one night they could enjoy themselves totally, but with a lot less noise. 'I guess you can, as long as you don't growl too loud,' he said smirking at her.

'How on Merlin's name did a two year-old remember that he wanted a brother?' she said, shifting the subject of the conversation due to the fact that she could see how excited he as already getting.

'I have no idea, but it sure is a good excuse to go to bed earlier...'

He gently took his wife on his arms, kissing her gently on her forehead, as he climbed the stairs to their bedroom. If there was any way to describe true happiness, it would be like this: the absence of having something to worry about and the constant presence of smiles that both his son and his wife provided him with. Happiness had always been inches away from him, and it had a face, a body and an immense admiration for him; she had always been there, happiness waited for him to be ready to accept it.

_'Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light,'_ Dumbledore's words echoed inside his head, only now had he known their true meaning. He was happy, and there was nothing that could hold him back.

The End.


End file.
